


friends don't destroy one another

by sirfeit



Series: recorded 'verse [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, Gen, moms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 08:42:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6797101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirfeit/pseuds/sirfeit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>roommates Murphy and Octavia drink alcohol and/or Mountain Dew and talk about their moms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	friends don't destroy one another

**Author's Note:**

> this work dedicated to my mother, who is The Worst, and to Dewcision 2016 (Baja Blast/Pitch Black), two flavors of Mountain Dew that taste like Terrible
> 
> title taken from the mountain goats song "[game shows touch our lives](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWQUs7S0bYo)"
> 
> warning for abuse mentions/discussion, including abuse incurred because of someone's sexuality

Octavia sits down across from him at their dining room table. “It’s Mother’s Day,” she tells him.

“Wow,” he drawls back, flipping a page of his book. “My mom’s dead, and so is yours, the end of this conversation.”

“Nope,” she says, and a bottle hits the table. “I’m sad, and we’re going to talk about our moms.”

Murphy groans. He tucks the flap of the book jacket carefully to his place, pushes it to the side. “Okay,” he says, “but I don’t drink.”

“Not the lovely little thing upon which our survival depends?” she asks, already bitter, askew. She sets a tall can next to it. “I think ahead.”

Red Bull. “Like that’s any kind of comparison,” he tells her. “Get me, ah, the new Mountain Dew from the pantry.”

She disappears around the corner. “Dewcision 2016?” she yells. “Pitch Black or Baja Blast?”

“Just fuck me up!” he yells back. They both taste like piss.

She returns, her arms full of year+ old Mountain Dew. She places each one purposefully on the table, punctuating her silence. She sits down. “Okay,” she says, unscrewing the top of the vodka? bottle. She pours herself half a mug’s worth, opens a Mountain Dew, fills the remaining space.

“Okay,” he says, picking the one that he remembers tasting slightly less like piss. Cracks it. Hiss. Mmm. Carbonation and grape syrup. “You go first.”

“She died in a car accident when I was sixteen, which is fucking irresponsible.”

“Irresponsible,” he agrees. “Some might even say it was tragic.”

“That too,” she says. “But she also kept me locked in a closet for like, 75% of my life, which is gross and terrible!”

“Mmm,” he says. He can’t quite bring himself to be empathetic.

She sets the mug down. “You go,” she says.

He takes a swig. Bleh. “I mean, you already know about it: Dad died, blah blah blah, if it wasn’t for you he wouldn’t be dead, which, like, _is true_ , she wasn’t wrong. You go.”

She shakes her head. “No, I did two, you do two.”

“Uhh, okay.” She’s dead too, so. There’s a story. “And then she died from drinking an obscene amount of alcohol until there was more of it in her than blood. And, yeah, okay, the last thing she said to me was _you killed your father_ , which. Is not directly true but is metaphorically so.”

Octavia nods. “One time she told me and Bell that if we ever left her, she’d kill herself. Actually, she told me that a lot of times. She was nicer to Bellamy.” Tips the mug back. Makes a face.

His turn. “Right after my dad got shot, I was crying for some reason or whatever, and she was like, _stop crying, you’re bothering the neighbors_. And Then I Never Cried Again.” Fucking dramatic and shit.

“Harsh,” says Octavia. She never says _I’m sorry that happened to you_ , or _Wow, John, that’s awful._ “I used to cry about dumb shit and she was always like, _You’re so manipulative_ , like, what, Mom, I’m crying about some boy or whatever and I’m manipulating you? Get a grip.”

He’s on his second Mountain Dew. This one tastes worse. “When I told her I was asexual - I can’t remember why I thought this was a good idea, but like, you know, you want your parents to love you and be proud of you or whatever, kid stuff - she said, _this is the worst thing you could have done to me_ , and, _you really know how to hit where it hurts_. Like killing my dad was somehow less bad than being asexual. Get some priorities, Mom.” He finishes the Mountain Dew. “I’m done,” he says. “She’s dead and I don’t care anymore.”

“Same,” says Octavia, getting up and pouring the rest of the Mountain Dew/vodka in the sink. Stopping by the table again, she stops. “Hey,” she says, looking him in the eye. “You’re a very important part of this world. I’m glad you’re in it.”

“Thanks,” says Murphy. He feels numb. He thinks he’ll go to bed early. “You too, yeah?”

He’s glad for Octavia. He'd probably be dead without her.

**Author's Note:**

> is your mom the worst too? this [reddit support group](https://www.reddit.com/r/raisedbynarcissists) has helped me a lot. maybe it will help you too.
> 
> i hope you had a good day and i hope all your days are good to come. leave a comment, kudos, or regular mountain dew if you enjoyed this. thanks for reading.


End file.
